Freedom
by Fickleberry Fine
Summary: I love stories about "the get-together", the night it happens, the build-up and the sudden realisation. This is one possible get-together amongst many hundreds of other possible get-togethers...


**Freedom**

"... Which took away not only their choice, but also their freedom." Alex Cabot finished her closing remarks with a level stare at the jury. The courtroom was silent; she had drawn them in with her speech and knew it was in the bag, but her face did not reveal her sense of triumph. It was too soon for a smile. The smile came later, when the jury returned after a short deliberation with a guilty verdict.

The judge's hammer rapped sharply. It was over.

Olivia Benson came over as Alex was packing her papers away.

"Some performance," she commented, and Alex nodded appreciatively at the compliment.

"Thanks. You did the hard work though, I just have to sell it right."

"Well you're an excellent saleswoman," returned Olivia, with a smile tugging at her lips.

Was it a flirt? Wondered Alex, trying not to read too much into it. She looked the detective up and down under the cover of her fringe, which had fallen over her glasses. Olivia looked good, rested, and Alex noticed the smarter-than-normal outfit, the subtle make-up, the newly-washed hair. Who was she making an effort for? Should Alex comment on her appearance? Or would that be too obvious?

"You look good-"  
"Come for a dri-"

Both women started and stopped at the same time, laughed awkwardly.

"Sorry," said Alex, smiling.

"No, I was just going to ask if you wanted to join us for a beer," Olivia shrugged in an effort to appear nonchalant. "If you're not busy, just thought it might be nice. For all of us I mean. And for you. If you want." she finished, lamely.

"Sounds good. Nice. Thanks - can I meet you there? I need to..." she waved at the stack of papers, the too-full briefcase. Need to fix my hair, she thought desperately.

"Of course. See you soon," Olivia looked relieved, and pleased. Alex was charmed by the detective, warmed by her sudden out-of-character nervousness. She felt she should say something funny, something witty and vaguely flirtatious, but it was too late; Olivia Benson was already walking away.

"... Give as many examples of horrible crimes as you like Elliot, the death penalty is just not the answer!" Argued Alex, her hand coming down on the table to reinforce her point. As she did so, her fingers brushed against Olivia's arm, causing the hairs on her forearm to stand up.

"An average life sentence amounts to just 14 years, Alex," said Munch, clearly playing devil's advocate.

"The legal system isn't perfect, and tougher and stricter enforcement is necessary," replied Alex, calmly, moving her hand away which, Olivia surprised herself to find, was rather disappointing. "But execution is not the way to do it. Crime rates show that death is not a deterrent."

Munch made a slow, showy nod, and looked over to Elliot. "An eye for an eye and the whole world goes blind..." he mused.

Elliot leant back in his chair, grinning. "How did we even get onto this? Counsellor," he bowed his head, "let me get you a drink."

He got up, and the mood relaxed. Munch smiled and caught Alex's eye, showing her that he had just been playing along. "So," he said, with an exaggerated pause. "How does everyone feel about abortion?"

They laughed, and Munch excused himself, leaving Olivia and Alex alone.

"You know Elliot was just winding you up, Alex," said Olivia softly. Alex turned round to her, smiled and flicked back her hair. She suddenly realised how close they were sitting - their thighs brushing together on the small bench. The bar had been busy when they'd arrived, and it had just seemed natural for the two women to squeeze together on the window seat.

"I know he was," conceded Alex, "but I couldn't just leave it! It's my job to argue causes."

"You look good when you argue," said Olivia, without thinking. The beers had made her brave - brave and stupid. She cursed herself as Alex raised a teasing eyebrow at her. "I mean, you argue well."

"Thanks. You look good when you blush." Alex's flirt made Olivia blush even more, and the smirk on Alex's face as she turned away to pick up her drink said that she knew it.

Elliot and Munch reappeared, deep in debate and carrying drinks. Shifting her weight away from a still-quiet Olivia, Alex launched herself into a discussion about gun control.

It was late. Munch had left first, over an hour ago, and Elliot had just bid them farewell. Alex and Olivia, caught up in each other's company and in a mutual appreciation for the Die Hard movies, hardly noticed the time. When the bar staff started putting chairs up on tables and turned off the juke box, they suddenly realised how late it had got.

"I wouldn't have pegged you for a Bruce Willis fan, counsellor," remarked Olivia, pulling on her jacket as they stood to go.

"I'm not - not really," replied Alex, trying to count how many she'd had. "I like how cut and dry it is - good versus bad. It's simple. And I like the bit on the snowmobiles."

Olivia laughed, ran a hand through her hair, dishevelling it. It looked sexy, thought Alex, before she could keep her brain in check. "I've had too much to drink," admitted the detective. "Want to share a cab?"

"Love to."

The space between them in the taxi seemed enormous after the closeness of the bar. They reached Alex's apartment in no time at all, and before she knew what she was doing, Alex had invited Olivia up for a coffee.

It had seemed like a good idea in the cab, after the easy chatting and natural flirting of the bar. But now, riding the elevator in silence, Alex wondered why she'd said it. "Come up for a coffee?" with the slightest of inflections at the end to turn it into a question - it wasn't even a harmless offer, for christ's sake, more like an order, a challenge. It was a dare.

"So this is your place," said Olivia, nodding appreciatively as Alex closed the door behind them. "It's nice."

"Thanks. Coffee? Wine? I don't think I have any beers..."

"Wine would be nice - only if you're having some."

"Sure. I've got a nice red I can open..." Alex's voice trailed off as she moved towards the kitchen, leaving Olivia to survey the apartment. A small hallway opened onto a large living area, windows stretched across one wall. In the middle, a comfortable-looking sofa suite around a big wooden coffee table. Behind it, the kitchen was visible through a long, stylish serving hatch-style window. As Olivia moved further into the room, she could see Alex through this opening, watched as the ADA reached up to get some glasses from a cupboard, kept watching as Alex's shirt rose up, exposing a soft, pale-skinned lower back.

Olivia turned away, feeling guilty. Along the opposite wall were tall bookshelves, housing countless legal volumes. In front of the shelves, a wide desk. Two doors, one ajar with the bathroom just visible, one closed. The bedroom.

Olivia dragged her gaze away from the closed door, walked over to the bureau on which it settled. She picked up a photograph in a simple black frame, stared at the much-younger Alex Cabot within it.

Her hair was shorter, head cocked and looking intently at the camera. Her mouth was slightly open, as if about to say something. In the background, a mountain scene. Backpacks on both of the woman in the photo - it looked high altitude. Hiking. Alex looked beautiful, a soft spring sunlight lighting up her face. She looked gorgeous, but Olivia wasn't looking at her. She was looking at the other woman in the photograph. The woman with her arm around Alex's waist, with her eyes trained on Alex's neck, with her chin resting gently on Alex's shoulder. Could this woman be-

A noise behind her made Olivia jump.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry-" she stammered; Alex had appeared out of nowhere and was standing right next to her.

"It's ok," said Alex softy. She took the photo from Olivia's hands, and Olivia was not too caught-out to not notice how smooth Alex's hands were.

"Who..?" asked Olivia, unsure if she wanted the answer, even more unsure what she would do if the answer was what she thought it would be.

"An ex. She died."

"Oh. I'm sorry, Alex."

"It's ok, we had lost touch. Her sister sent me the photo after, with a letter explaining. I hadn't seen her for years but..." she shrugged, placing the photo carefully back down.

"I should go," said Olivia, unable to move her feet. She saw Alex take in her hesitation, saw Alex read it and realise what it meant.

"You could stay," replied Alex, quietly, meeting Olivia's eyes with her own. It only now dawned on Olivia that Alex's hand was on the small of her back, her fingers tentatively touching her through the fabric of her t-shirt. It dawned on her that Alex was, with careful and nervous subtlety, making a move.

"Why?" whispered Olivia, her heart pounding in the quiet stillness of the apartment.

"Because you want to," replied Alex, as she reached up to Olivia's face, brushing a stray hair aside. "Because I want you to."

Their lips met. Softly at first, then harder, as the longing that had been building for months at last was released. Alex led, setting the pace, her arms pulling Olivia closer until their bodies gently crushed together. Olivia quickened the kiss, letting her hands roam up Alex's sides, thinking of nothing, not one thought entered her head as the two women kissed for a short eternity.

Pulling away, both breathed deeply, staring at the other in something akin to wonder.

"I didn't know. I mean, I wasn't sure," confessed Olivia.

"That I liked women or that I liked you?" asked Alex, the kiss having filled her with a brazen courage.

"Both," smiled Olivia.

They kissed again, this time hands roved until shirts, feeling bare skin react to fingertips, a toned stomach and soft sides, a strong back and the merest hint of lace on a bra...

Before long, Alex's shirt was half undone and Olivia's t-shirt had been pushed halfway up her torso, and they still hadn't moved from the same spot. Now, Alex started stepping backwards, pulling the detective with her until they reached the sofas. Olivia got the idea, pushing Alex down onto one of them, feeling the ADA's body move beneath her as Alex writhed up to make room for Olivia. Her skirt had ridden up and, Olivia noticed with an involuntary moan, revealed lace-topped hold-ups.

Alex tugged at Olivia's t-shirt, and with a little help got it off over Olivia's head; it sailed away behind the sofa somewhere, Olivia's attention fixed on Alex's supple thighs and perfect alabaster skin. Alex laughed and, with a gentle tug on the back of Olivia's neck, brought her focus back to the kissing. Olivia, spurred on by the counsellor's demands, pressed her leg between Alex's, earning an appreciative moan, and then -

"Ow ow ow!" cried out Alex, pushing Olivia back and then, unable to stop herself, burst out laughing.

"What? What happened?" Olivia looked around wildly.

"Your badge," said Alex, still laughing. "It's spiky."

"Shit, Alex. I'm so sorry," said Olivia, tracing her fingers over the small red point-marks in Alex's upper thigh. She bent her head to them, kissed the skin there gently, opened her mouth slightly and let the point of her tongue make small circles on the wounded skin. Alex moaned her assent; Olivia's tongue was just inches from her sex, and the desire to go further was almost unbearable.

Olivia, thoroughly enjoying the teasing now that she had assessed there was no lasting damage, pulled Alex's skirt further up, allowing her to move her mouth closer, kissing Alex's inner thigh, until she was sure she could smell Alex.

"Wait," breathed Alex, summoning all of her self-restraint. Olivia's head popped up instantly, a worried look on her face. "It's ok," Alex reassured her. "I'd just like to move to the bedroom."

Relief broke out over Olivia's face. "I was worried you were having second thoughts," she confessed, smiling a little embarrassed smile.

In response, Alex leaned in, kissed her deeply, then stood and led Olivia by the hand to the closed door.


End file.
